Edge of the Razor
by TheDarkFlygon
Summary: All fans aren't nice people, and all breaks aren't nice to take. (Or: someone isn't happy about how her favorite idols are going, and decides to act upon it. With a weapon.)


Being the older sibling was sometimes tougher than single children would expect at first glance. It was a life filled with fears and anxiety: expectations, duties, goals and being a role model were all part of the course one couldn't be responsible for being a part of.

Usually, it was mundane things: tell your little siblings not to let go off your hand when they're very small when you're in a crowd, speak to them about growing up and puberty, show them the ropes of the fun stuff your parents wouldn't tell you about… and feel like a failure when you see them be better than you in every single field you've ever stepped a foot in.

Well, perhaps that last thing wasn't every older sibling's reality, but it sure had been Mitsuki's ever since his little brother could do as much as talk.

A lot of people would have rather talked about Iori than about him. The former was everything a parent would want to raise: easily disciplined, wise beyond his years, good at everything school-related and outside of school too, mature and sharp. There was no way around it: Iori was simply a much, much better version of him.

That didn't prevent Mitsuki from having a few issues with him. That kid would always meddle with his dream of becoming an idol or with, well, _everything_! Baking? Oh, it'd be better if you did that. Redecorating his room? It'd be handier if you placed the furniture that way instead. Practicing dancing and singing for the next audition he'd fail anyway? Perhaps you should watch that idol unit before, if you listened closer to the song, etc, etc. It was hard not to get fed up with this after a while.

However, that was all petty banter these days, right? He had achieved his dream: being an idol. He didn't even have to throw Iori under the hype train as he did so: they had both gotten in, in the same unit. The world was finally smiling on him, didn't it? About time! That meant the kid could stop meddling with his dream or, at least, it wouldn't be as noticeable as it used to be.

In fact, they had bonded over being part of this unit again. Mitsuki had finally been able to be the big brother he had always sought to be, comforting his sibling when he forgot to sing and triggering one of their biggest group hugs to this day. It had been better for their relationship, but alas, being an idol was a risky occupation and he would rediscover that soon enough.

The centre switch had been… quite the event, to say the least. This had created a rift in the middle of their fanbase: there were centre Riku fans, centre Iori fans, fans who wanted to see other members be the centre instead… It seemed like their "Perfection Gimmick" setup truly hadn't pleased everyone, as temporary as it was. Anxiety had settled among their ranks because of that, but they decided to stick together and get through the storm united.

However, that wasn't the case for their fanbase, and it was made abundantly clear on forums and video comments alike. They could get violent at times against each other, but also against the members themselves. It was all verbal violence, of course.

Or was it just words spelt out in cold letters on phone and computer screens?

It had all seemed kind of surreal to them, for the first few days of this ongoing switch. It just felt like having some nasty comments about some of them, albeit there was already some discord between them because of it. It'd get better, right? They couldn't disband from just some dissatisfied fans' reactions to a sudden change. It'd be fine.

Perhaps Mitsuki had believed in their fans too much. He had always seen them as the nice middle school girls from the plaza or the young women having supported them since their very beginnings for some of them. They had to be nice people who would understand. Right? Well, he'd have to soon revise that judgement.

Going undercover in the streets wasn't too uncommon for them. They'd wear paper-thin disguises, sure, and some fans would recognize them, but they usually didn't get into much troubles when they did so. It was a way to remember they were still humans and that this adventure could, sadly, stop suddenly at any given moment if they weren't careful enough. It was a tough life he was always ready to face.

Fame came with that price of being recognized in the streets, after all. It usually was a pleasant experience: exchanging quick words with fans, taking selfies, getting some precious (and direct) feedback was anything but bad for them. Alas, there were times where it wasn't the case. Times Mitsuki honestly didn't want to believe could happen to them.

It seemed to be a regular afternoon. He was out with Iori to buy the guys some drinks during a training session, nothing out of the ordinary. It was calm outside, not much going on even for a school-less day, everything was just fine, wasn't it?

They had come across a couple fans, some of which hadn't noticed them, when one of them seemed insistent in particular. That was displeasing to see: being followed around was an annoyance at first, then a chore, then turned into full-on creepy behaviour. Mitsuki had to say something: if Iori's face indicated anything, it was that he felt uncomfortable, yet was determined to make it to the agency without causing a fuss. Too calm for his own good, huh.

"Hey, you!" Mitsuki bolted in that creep's direction once and for all. "What's your deal?! You're being a creep!"

"Big brother," Iori put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't scream like that. We'll get in trouble."

"We're already in trouble," the older sibling replied before looking back at the third wheel. "Stop following us around like that! We're humans too, y'know!"

The chick, a black-haired and brown-eyed teenage girl around Iori's age, simply stared at the latter in silence.

"If you don't leave us alone, we're gonna call the cops on you!"

Despite all the threats he'd make, Mitsuki had to admit something: it didn't goddamn work! Why was she being such a creepo anyway?! Did she get off to that shit in secret or what? Words didn't work: perhaps it was time to simply call anyone to act on her. Standing here speaking menacingly wouldn't do anything.

Taking a glance at her showed she was a huge Riku fan: her phone's charm, her keychains, her jacket's pins and her purse's zippers all were showing Riku's face or a red double sharp. If she was a Riku fanatic like that, why was she following them? It had to do with Iori, sure, but was it any positive or negative? In such times…

It had very little chance to be any positive.

"I don't want you to be the centre," she said in a monotonous voice, staring right into the younger idol's eyes.

"That's an opinion shared by a lot of fans," Iori tried to calm the game down. "I'm afraid this will last for a bit longer. I never intended and still don't intend on replacing Nanase forever."

"Too honest for his own kind" wasn't an exact match, in this situation. Mitsuki could easily see Iori was speaking that way exactly because he was afraid and under pressure rather than because he wanted to apologize. The fact they were trapped by walls in a small street didn't help.

"I don't care about that! You should have never been centre in the first place! You're nothing compared to my sweet Riku! I don't want to see you in his place!"

That must had hit Iori somewhere, considering the distorted expression on his face. He'd have usually tried to remain calm in face of such a situation.

"Hey," Mitsuki attempted to chime in, "c'mon now! That's just mean! Iori's trying his best you know!"

"Well, if he's tried, then he's fucked up," she simply replied as she went to grab something in her bag. The older idol was this close to grab the pepper spray bottle he always had in his sweat's pocket. That was becoming too dangerous.

The chick pulled out a fucking cutter from her bag and pointed it at Iori, holding it like it was the harmful weapon she intended to use it as on them.

"Are you fucking mad?!" Mitsuki let out in a scream, hoping people would hear him too.

"Sometimes, you gotta do what you have to do," she simply replied as she got closer to his brother's _throat_. "Some people just won't go away."

Okay, she was completely nuts. There was no way reasoning her. It wasn't Mitsuki's forte to be a third party anyway: his blood was boiling and he was retaining the urge to insult her because he was in public and in certain danger in this very situation. Iori didn't seem like he wanted to be a mediator to such a situation: there were big drops of sweat pearling all over his temples.

"That's enough! Get away from us, you fuckin' psycho!" Mitsuki attempted one last time to threaten her, using his deepest voice and harshest tone for this, but she still didn't budge. She kept glaring at Iori with these menacing eyes.

She launched herself off her feet with the cutter clenched in her hand, heading straight for the throat, clutching her teeth. Despite her inhuman velocity, Mitsuki had managed to leap into the fight before she could, preventing the knife from reaching Iori's throat. It was dangerous and reckless, but his self-survival instinct had shut down as soon as he saw his brother having a real chance to die here and there, in this dark corner of a street to a fucking psycho.

The cutter's direction didn't change much, though: when he slapped her hand out of that way, she instead opted for Iori's broader chest area. In the confusion and heat of the moment, Mitsuki had fallen to the ground, taking her with him as he made her slip using his legs to sweep her off her feet. He would defend his brother to the very end and she needed to get that ingrained insider that little stalker brain of hers.

When he looked up, he noticed red dripping to the ground, right onto his hair and, soon, face. She had pulled the cutter out of a newfound wound. She had managed to cut his brother in the chest, deep enough for it to already be pouring out blood, right between his left arm and what he could assume to be _his fucking heart_. Iori's breathing had heaved enough for it to be noticeable.

He wouldn't forgive her for this.

Mitsuki got up quickly, jumping to his feet, telling his brother to please muster up his strength and call an ambulance and the police or something. They were in a fucking pinch and she was insane enough to remain there after stabbing someone like that. It was even worse than that, in fact: when he glared at her, trying to keep his punches to himself, he noticed she was clutching onto the blooded blade and had that… crazed expression in her bloodshot eyes. She was clearly _enjoying this_.

"What's the fuck is wrong with you?!" he screamed again, needing to let all that steam getting to his head. "How can you be happy about doing that?!"

"You don't get it! I'm making Ainana better!"

"It's just about whatever Ainana you wanna see?! There's something missing inside that head of yours!"

The psycho titled her head and stared at him as if he had been nonsensical all along.

"Stay out of my way."

"Fuck no! I don't tolerate killing people" around here!"

His blood was boiling inside his veins.

"Why are you this angry? I'm just making things better. Ainana doesn't need… _that_ as their centre. Nor as a member."

"Who are you calling that?! _Iori_?!"

Something snapped inside his skull.

"We're not objects! You can't just decide to one day attempt murdering one of us just because we made a centre switch! For fuck's sake, do you think of us as just props to amuse people?! You've been treating Iori as a fucking item all that time! You've injured someone just for some idol unit!"

As much as Mitsuki loved being an idol and was an avid fan of the idol universe, this was fucking bullshit and he wouldn't stand for this. She needed to understand and _fucking pay_.

She clutched her cutter.

"You really don't get it."

"Why don't I fucking get? You don't make any sense!"

"He isn't needed."

"He is Iori, right?"

"Yes."

Something snapped even harder, the anger becoming a pounding heart and boiling thoughts of wanting to see that chick taste the floor already. It had gone from fiery and burning to strangely calm.

"I don't give a damn if you think Iori's unneeded. Nobody does, in fact. Our parents don't. Our friends don't. Other fans don't. His classmates don't. We have a life and you can't just decide to end my brother's life end like that just because you don't like him as a centre or something. I won't let you kill my brother in the name of some bullshit principle."

Tears started to appear.

"You don't get it. You don't get why a brother would defend his sibling. You're that unsympathetic and awful? You want me to watch not only a comrade die in front of me, but also my _little brother_?! Go fuck yourself, that ain't happening on my watch!"

As psycho as she was, she was really fucking stupid: from the side of his view, he could see Iori had called the cops all along, his other hand resting on the cut he had taken to the chest, white shirt getting tinted in reds. His eyes were starting to get unfocused.

Fuck. This was turning into a disaster, and this bitch was still fucking ready to kill them both while she was at it.

Before he could even think about it, as soon as he saw her get a more forward glance, he leaped at her, making her slam the ground as he pinned her. That wasn't before she had her chance at getting a hit on him: the pain of getting stabbed right under his ribs in his fall was late to arrive. He kept a scream inside, shaking her hand with his so she'd drop her goddamn weapon already.

When she did, he allowed himself to just grab and get up from her. She had been knocked out by the shock anyway, her head having slammed the ground just as hard as her back had. Stumbling on his own feet, Mitsuki fell to the floor, back against a wall, right next to Iori sitting next to him.

"Where… where are the cops…?" he asked, voice weakened.

"Near enough for me to hear some sirens," Iori replied with what sounded like a cautious tone, before looking at him again. "Big brother, how are you?"

At this question, Mitsuki scoffed. "Isn't the answer obvious…? I just got stabbed… That hurts like hell…"

"I had figured… I didn't know the centre switch would upset people this badly…"

"Nah, it's more than just some Riku-obsessed asshole… That girl was just psycho at that point… Don't even try blaming this fiasco all on you, Iori…"

"Then on who?"

"Her, entirely her…"

Despite the utter pain and the discomforting feeling of having your blood drained by an injury, he still managed to speak. He needed to keep Iori and himself awake until help arrived.

"Y'know, you can let yourself speak like someone injured. I can tell you're trying to sound solid, but you're zoning out… Just speak to me for now, okay?"

His brother's unfocused eyes turned to him again.

"Did you know she could injure you?"

"Who wouldn't? She was armed and had already hit you…"

"So you jumped to…" His face distorted as he seemed to have realized something horrific, "…protect me? Why?"

"You're still asking? Because I'm your big brother, that's all… It's my mission to protect my younger sibling, isn't it…?"

Mitsuki gave his little brother a weak smile, yet the biggest he could make, which got met by tears and a sudden embrace. It was weak, kind of awkward in that regard, but the emotion was there and so was the intention.

"Heh, Iori… don't cry… It'll be fine…"

No direct response. Silence was enough. As long as neither of them would go cold, it'd be just fine.

Red and blue lights soon drowned the scene as people barged into the scene. Impossible to hear or see anything decently. Oh well, it was all over now.

It'd be fine.


End file.
